


us alone

by neroh



Series: ever thine, ever mine, ever ours [2]
Category: The Loft (2014), The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Established Relationship, Family Issues, M/M, Politics, Porn With Plot, Reunions, Royalty, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neroh/pseuds/neroh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth be told, he expected their reunion to be different, happy even. For a moment it had been until they left the restaurant, where reality had set in.</p><p>Before the happy ending, there are a few bumps in the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	us alone

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Hammer, Dommi, Heather, Taverl, Anna, and Dax for the personal cheerleading squad. You ladies are amazing!

The entire cab ride back to his flat is filled with silence with the exception of the hum of the automobile, the muffled sounds of London traffic, and rain splattering against the windows. 

It’s strange to be sitting within arm’s reach from Nicholas after nearly a year’s absence. He looks…better. Far better than he did when Vince first met Nicholas. Not that he ever looked bad. He just seems healthier, more focused. There’s a brightness that Vince doesn’t recall in his eyes, though they are currently tinged with the familiar spark of anxiety Vince remembers from before as Nicholas unconsciously picks at his cuticles.

As Nicholas unconsciously picks at his cuticles, he keeps himself pressed up against the opposite side and stares out into the grey evening. He blatantly refuses to even glance in Vince’s direction and Vince has no idea how to take that. Honestly, all he wants to do is reach out and run his fingers through Nicholas’ hair. Something, anything to ease nervousness that radiates from the other man. 

“I’m sorry for springing this on you and showing up like that,” Vince apologizes, sincerely. 

He watches Nicholas’ throat move as he swallows. “Can we talk about it at your flat?” he whispers, so low that Vince wonders if he's heard him correctly.

Vince hears desperation cracking at its surface and nods, relenting for now. “Right,” he agrees. “Okay.” 

He knows that they are playing a different game in London, where Nicholas is a minor celebrity due to his royal lineage and more recently, success in the restaurant industry. Anything overheard could show up in the Daily Mail the next morning. 

“How’s your uncle?” Vince asks conversationally. 

He knows from several Google searches and magazine photographs that Nicholas has been in contact with the elusive family member. Vince wonders that means for them, if anything at all.

Nicholas looks at him for the first time and scowls from across the seat before turning back to the window. Apparently, that also has to wait until they set foot in Vince’s place.

Truth be told, he expected their reunion to be different, happy even. For a moment it had been until they left the restaurant, where reality had set in.

Something about the way Nicholas is acting makes Vince fear that whatever they had back in New York is long gone.

Gone like his marriage…his old life of debauchery…

When the cab pulls up outside Vince’s building, he half expects Nicholas to hop out and take off down the street as soon as the vehicle stops. Instead, he waits as Vince pays the driver and holds the door open. 

“Thanks,” Vince says as he digs his keys out of his jacket pocket. He doesn’t hear Nicholas’ reply, if there is one, because he’s rushing to get out of the rain.

The building is warm, far warmer than it is outside. In the lobby, the front desk clerk greets him with a smile and a polite, “Evening Mr. Stevens” before they get into the elevator.

There Vince removes his coat and folds it over his arm, smoothing the creases with his hand before hitting the button for his floor. He can feel Nicholas’ eyes on him, watching every move as if…

…as if he’s afraid that Vince is going to disappear.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, breezily, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

When he smirks playfully at the other man, he notices how Nicholas looks like he’s on the verge of tears. There is a flush to his cheeks that Vince recalls from that night in Nicholas’ apartment in New York. The one where everything changed between them and he saw Nicholas cry for the first time.

“Hey,” Vince calls, reaching out to touch Nicholas’ shoulder. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine, okay?”

Nicholas nods as his chin wobbles. After a moment he says, “I thought you were dead.”

It takes just five words strip everything down until it’s bare bones. For once in Vince’s life, he has no idea what to say. The elevator chimes leaving him standing there with his mouth open and tears starting to wet Nicholas’ cheeks. He wraps an arm around Nicholas’ shoulders and escorts him into his flat.

Once they cross the threshold and the door’s shut behind them, Nicholas buries his head into Vince’s shoulder and sobs. They vibrate through his body. “Nick. Baby,” he intones as he wraps his arms around him, molding their bodies together. “I’m so sorry.”

Vince inhales the scent of rain and Nicholas’ cologne, brushing his face against his cheek. He touches the back of Nicholas’ head, feeling the short hairs tickle his skin and closes his eyes. “God, I am so sorry.”

The younger man trembles as his fists bunched around the fabric of Vince’s shirt. “I saw the body bags,” Nicholas whimpers, muffledly.

Vince’s stomach clenches and he tightens his embrace. “You saw the body bags?” he asks, not really wanting to know the answer. It does explain things though. Why Nicholas never came to see him, why he never called, why he left New York City.

Nicholas nods against his shoulder as he tries to steady himself. “I came by the loft to see…because you hadn’t called…” he stammers. “And there were police _everywhere_! Then they wheeled out the body bags and I turned around. I couldn’t…” He breaks again and all but collapses into his arms.

Dropping his cheek into Nicholas’ hair, Vince rocks them gently and hushing him as Nicholas sobs. He _should_  have known that Nicholas would go to the loft to check on him. There were a lot of things Vince shouldn’t have done—purchasing the loft, acting like an arrogant piece of shit, meeting Nicholas when he wasn’t available…

Vince pulls at his bottom lip, knowing full well that he doesn’t regret meeting the man in his arms. He wishes that the circumstances were different and that he hadn’t hurt his ex-wife.

“I got shot,” Vince begins to explain. Even now, the words still sound surreal to his own ears. He continues rocking them, swaying gently from side to side as Nicholas’ cries die down. “Two friends of mine…they weren’t good people and they tried to…” Vince stops for a moment and swallows hard. “I went to push a friend of mine out of the way and took a bullet to my shoulder.”

Nicholas shudders in his arms. “But there were _three_ body bags,” he counters, sniffling.

“One of the mistresses was there,” Vince tells him, pulling back to cup his face and stare into his eyes. They are as blue as he remembers, so haunting and beautiful and because of him, they’re filled with pain. “Nick…I’m so sorry to have put you through that. There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but _that_ is at the top of the list.”

Nicholas tilts his head, his cheek brushing against one of Vince’s hands. “You have a list?” he jokes in a watery voice.

“It’s very long,” Vince says. He pulls Nicholas back into his arms and holds him tightly. “I missed you so much. God, I missed you so much it hurt. I didn’t even think that was possible!”

Nicholas snorts into his chest, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Shows how much you know.”

He snorts at the comment. Vince presses his lips against Nicholas’ forehead. “There is so much I need to tell you,” he whispers into the other man’s skin. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Begin at the beginning,” Nicholas quotes Lewis Carroll.

Vince appreciates the sentiment and Nicholas’ quick mind, wondering how he could have left the man in his arms. “If we’re going to do that, we’ll need a drink,” he replies.

 

* * *

 

It takes several hours filled with refills of glasses and uncomfortable pauses, but Vince eventually gets the entire story out.

He tells Nicholas of his two friends who turned on the remaining tenants of the loft and murdered them. How Vince barely survived and woke up to face the harsh reality of his actions. How he divorced Barbara and gave her everything, how she somehow forgave his indiscretions and wished him well as he embarked to England for a work assignment. 

“Barb was always too good for me, too nice, too understanding…” Vince tells Nicholas as they sit side by side on the couch. He is clutching a tumbler of scotch, tapping his fingers on the glass. “And she knew I was in love with you.”

Nicholas’ body stiffens at the confession. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Vince answers. “Apparently, I didn’t have to.” They glance at each other before Vince breaks eye contact. “She said she knew the day the three of us had lunch together. It was the way I looked at you—like you were priceless. Barb told me I _never_ looked at anyone that way.” He drinks the rest of his glass. 

Nicholas flushes a furious shade of pink that creeps to the tips of his ears. “Oh,” he utters.

“I don’t regret any of this,” Vince assures, gesturing his hand between them. “But this time I want to do it right. You deserve that.”

“You want to court me?” Nicholas teases, smiling. It reaches his eyes, which is a rarity if Vince’s memory serves correctly.

He nods. “Court you, date you, bring you flowers, kiss you on your front step at night,” Vince lists as he leans closer to Nicholas, their lips almost touching. “Whatever it takes to get you to smile like that.” 

Nicholas closes the distance without another word and they kiss. It’s their first kiss in well over a year and it’s just as sweet as Vince remembers. The burn of scotch and scrape of Nicholas’ stubble tinge at the edges while the angle is all wrong and the press of their lips too wet and uncoordinated. 

The only thing that comes to Vince’s mind as he pulls Nicholas closer is that he’s come home.

 

* * *

 

It’s already late and they are both exhausted, so Nicholas stays the night.

As Vince clears away the half-empty bottle of scotch and glasses, Nicholas places a call to his uncle. He hears his footsteps coming down the hallway and looks up to find Nicholas standing in the kitchen. “Aren’t you a little old to be checking in?” Vince asks as he dries the glasses and sets them on the dish rack. 

Nicholas wrinkles his nose. “He gets worried,” he explains, setting his iPhone down on the counter and tapping the screen with his finger. “We’re still working on things and…”

“You don’t need to explain,” Vince tells him with a grin. “I’m glad you two were able to reconcile.”

Nicholas returns his grin with a bright smile. “Me too,” he says. “You’d like him. He loves scotch, cigars, and all the things your physician tells you not to do.”

Vince barks out a fit of laughter as he goes to Nicholas and wraps an arm around his shoulders to guide him towards the bedroom. Both of them are too tired for sex and the night’s events are still too fresh in their minds. Vince gives Nicholas a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to change into and they brush their teeth together.

Once in bed, they continue relearning each other’s mouths. They eventually stop when Nicholas falls asleep with his forehead pressed Vince’s neck, snoring softly as Vince strokes his hair and presses his lips to Nicholas’ forehead.

As Vince lies there, he tries to take in as much of the man in his arms as he can. How long he stays awake, he doesn’t know or care—these moments are precious and Vince vows to appreciate each one. He feels Nicholas stirring as he, himself, is nearly asleep. 

He yawns, blowing a puff of air onto Vince’s neck. “I haven’t told my uncle about us,” Nicholas mumbles, sleepily.

Vince figured as much and it doesn’t bother him. He gently squeezes the back of Nicholas’ neck and lets his eyelids close. “Take your time,” he assures. “By the way, I am taking you to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I don’t get a say in this?”

“No,” Vince replies, earning a chuckle from Nicholas. He cracks an eye open and sees a smile on Nicholas’ face. “I was serious when I said I wanted to do this right. That means wining and dining you.”

“I suppose that this is a date then.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Vince echoes as his arms tighten around Nicholas. “Should I pick you up at eight?”

Instead of a verbal reply, Nicholas answers him with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

They have their first date at a sushi restaurant in the Mayfair District.

The place is fairly quiet and affords them some privacy as they dine and go through the _getting to know you_ phase that they pretty much skipped back in New York. During the course of their date, Vince notices that laughter comes much easier to Nicholas than it did before and his mannerisms aren’t as tense and constricted. Perhaps it’s because he’s in a better place mentally and emotionally. Either way, Vince certainly doesn’t mind the change in Nicholas’ demeanor. 

“So you knew Harry from Cambridge,” Vince says as he dips his sushi roll in soy sauce.

Nicholas nods. “And he met Peter in culinary school.”

“Okay and then they decided to open a restaurant together,” Vince deduces after swallowing. “And how did you get roped into this venture?”

Nicholas smiles at him over the rim of his sake glass. “I ran into Harry one day and he told me what mad scheme he was planning over a few pints,” he explains. He leans back in his seat and shrugs. “It sounded like a good idea, so I offered to be the silent partner. It isn’t so silent now, but that’s fine. The restaurant is doing well, we’re in the black, everyone is happy.”

“What does your uncle think about this?”

“He has been surprisingly supportive,” Nicholas replies. A shy smile crosses his mouth as he glances up at Vince. “It’s still a work in progress, but we’ve been making amends after I came back here. But things between us have been good. Really good, actually.”

Vince smiles back at him. “I’m glad,” he says.

“Me too,” Nicholas agrees. He leans in, smiling. “So after dinner, where else are you taking me?”

Vince shrugs playfully, earning a snort of mock annoyance from Nicholas. “Anywhere you want to go,” he says seriously, reaching across the table for Nicholas’ hand. The gesture surprises Nicholas as Vince expected. It’s only fair as they weren’t ones for public displays of affection back in New York even though Vince wanted to touch him. The need had been overwhelming, but he never dared. Now he’s glad he took that chance tonight. Vince looks into Nicholas’ dazzling smile and feels the sensation of Nicholas’ fingers lacing between his own.

They barely make it through the front door of Vince’s flat. He backs Nicholas up against the wall, sealing his mouth over the other man’s in a searing kiss. Their tongues clash together as Vince slips his hands down Nicholas’ body and cups his ass. Nicholas groans, pressing himself closer to Vince. His lover’s clothed erection brushes against Vince’s thigh and he decides he needs to have them naked as soon as possible.

“Baby,” Vince whispers against Nicholas’ lips. He nibbles a path to a spot behind his ear and draws his teeth over it, earning a moan. Nicholas always made the best sounds and so prettily, too. He continues nipping and licking his way over his lover’s skin. “I want you so bad. You have no idea!” 

Vince isn’t normally one for committing things to memory unless it’s work-related, but having Nicholas under his thrall is something that he wants to make an exception for. He savors the taste of his lover’s skin and the thrum of his pulse against his mouth. Nicholas is warm and real against him as Vince finds the spot, wetting it with his tongue until he’s shuddering.

“I missed you,” Nicholas confesses hoarsely as their erections grind against one another. He lets out a gasp and weaves his fingers through Vince’s hair.

Vince rubs the tip of his nose against an earlobe. “I missed you, too,” he whispers. “I missed everything about you.” He pulls Nicholas by the front of his shirt and walks him back towards the bedroom. “I missed your eyes, your hands, that voice.” He grabs Nicholas’ backside, squeezing the taut flesh once more. “Your ass,” he growls at his lover’s groan. “Your lips.”

Nicholas moans at his words. “Keep talking,” he pleads.

“I thought of you every day,” Vince tells him as he starts to remove their clothing, leaving a trail through his flat. “Every single day I wondered where you were and what you were doing.” He cups Nicholas’ face and looks him in the eye. “And if you missed me too.”

Nicholas presses their lips together as they fall on the bed. They are pulling off their pants, underwear, and socks, flinging them carelessly onto the floor. “I missed you every minute of every day,” Nicholas gasps as Vince’s tongue circles around a nipple. “I missed you so much it _hurt_.” 

Hearing the pain in Nicholas’ words makes Vince’s heart stutter in his chest and aches in sympathy. “I know, baby. I know,” Vince intones as his mouth travels down his lover’s body. 

He splays a hand in the center of Nicholas’ chest and glances up at him. Vince has almost forgotten how beautiful he is. He takes in the flushed skin, swollen and red lips, the arousal lighting up his eyes—a perfect picture of debauchery. It’s even better than the first time they slept together. Vince couldn’t forget how absolutely stunning he was—how absolutely stunning he is—while he took everything Vince had to give him. The heat between them, the way Nicholas looks at him...it’s manifold. 

He mouths his way back up Nicholas’ body and reaches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer as they kiss. Vince wants to go slow, to savor the moment, but neither of them wants to take their time. They can relearn each other’s bodies either way. 

Vince only wants to be with Nicholas again—heart, body, and soul. 

Nicholas sucks a bruise into his collarbone as he uncaps the lube and squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers. Pulling Nicholas closer, Vince captures his mouth and licks his way inside. His slick hand over the expanse of his back and between his supple cheeks.

He hears his lover mewl at Vince’s first touch at his entrance and holds Nicholas tighter. Swiping his index finger over the tight, puckered skin, Vince teases him and relishes each reaction he gets out of his lover. 

“Goddammit,” Nicholas growls as he breaks the kiss, his accent thicker in his growing arousal. “What are you… _oh god!_ ”

Vince chuckles as his finger sinks into his lover’s tight heat. “You were saying?” He grins as Nicholas moans in reply and leans down to kiss him, unable to get enough of his taste. Vince gently, painstakingly opens up his lover, savoring every twitch, every sound of pleasure, and the hot press of Nicholas’ naked body against his. He finds Nicholas’ prostate and proceeds to tease the gland until Nicholas begs.

“Vince,” he moans, thrusting onto his finger. “I need…I need…”

“What do you need, baby?”

Nicholas bunches the duvet in his fists and arches his back. “More! More, please. More!”

Vince wiggles another finger in along the first and listens to Nicholas cry out. Precum pools under his lover’s hard cock, dribbling constantly as Vince works him into a frenzy. “You look so good right now,” he purrs. “I wish you could see yourself.”

Nicholas moans in reply. “Fuck me!”

“Not yet, baby,” Vince tells him as he pours more lube onto Nicholas’ puff hole. “I don’t want to hurt you, but soon. I promise I’ll fuck you soon.” 

“Until I forget my own name,” Nicholas whimpers when Vince’s fingers press into his prostate again. 

Vince leans over him to run his tongue through the precum on Nicholas’ skin. It tastes of his lover and he wants more. “Until I forget mine.”

Eventually, he works three fingers into Nicholas’ wet, loose hole. Vince removes them, much to his lover’s very vocal protest, and reaches for the lube to slick himself up. He crawls over Nicholas and pushes his legs up towards his chest. Settling between Nicholas’ thighs, Vince strokes himself as he kisses both of his lover’s ankles.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Nicholas admits. He swallows hard.

“I’ll go slow,” Vince promises as he lines himself up with Nicholas’ entrance. He kisses Nicholas, opening his mouth with his tongue as he presses his cock into the tight ring of muscle. Vince moves slowly, inching himself inside of Nicholas until he slips in and they moan in unison. Vince finds himself shuddering when he bottoms out and swallowing back a curse. “Nick,” he gasps, stroking Nicholas’ cheek.

Nicholas arches against him, eyes closed and elegant hands still fisting the duvet. The sounds tumbling out of his mouth are so obscene and _so fucking_ perfect that Vince can hardly stand it. He slowly slides back out before surging forward, groaning as he hits bottom once more. Nicholas tightens around him, breathlessly crying out Vince’s name. 

He fucks into Nicholas with a steady, slow pace that drives the man spread out under him insane with desire. Vince feels the sudden sting of fingernails digging into his forearms, pulling him forward until he’s leaning over Nicholas. He keeps his motions the same as his lover’s hands wind their way up his back.

One of Nicholas’ fingers brushes over the telltale scar of a bullet hole, causing him to gasp against his chest. They look at each other for a loaded moment—each of them realizing that _this_ is real—before Nicholas pulls Vince down to him and they resume at a faster pace. The world seems to dwindle down to just them in Vince’s bed and the sound of their lovemaking. 

Nicholas reaches between them and starts to stroke his own erection in time with their thrusts. “Vince,” Nicholas gasps against his mouth. “Fuck…”

He goes faster and moans as Nicholas’ passage tightens around his cock. Vince gazes down at Nicholas’ face. “Want to hear you,” he pants, unable to hide how far gone he is on this man. “God, I miss hearing you cum.”

In the end, they cum together. It echoes off the bedroom walls and spreads through the flat. The air is heavy with the aftermath—the scent of sex, of drying semen, and whispered curses as they both come down from their climax. Vince drops his forehead onto Nicholas’ shoulder and regains his breath while his heart continues to pound inside of his chest. 

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” Nicholas whispers into Vince’s hair. It sounds like a plea.

Vince chuckles. “You’re not dreaming.”

“Tell me we’re going to that again.”

“You bet your ass we are,” Vince quips as his head pops up to look at Nicholas, who grins at him. 

They are both a sticky mess of sweat, lube, and cum, but neither of them cares. Nicholas’ lips gravitate towards Vince’s and they fall into a lingering post-coital kiss.

After all, they’ve waited long enough to have this moment.

 

* * *

 

They begin dating and honestly, Vince has never been happier.

Something about this time around makes him fall deeper in love with Nicholas like he can’t stop himself from feeling the way he does. Vince cherishes every moment he spends with him and soon two months have gone by. He clears out space in his dresser and closet for Nicholas’ things and there’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom along with his toiletries. It’s the type of domesticity Vince used to fear even when he was married, only now he loves coming home to it.

It gives him pause to notice the little things he never noticed about Nicholas before—how he sleeps with one leg slung over the duvet, that he takes his coffee with milk and his tea the same way, and he’s more of a morning person than Vince is. 

There is also the unnerving occurrence in which his boyfriend suffers from exhaustion so draining that he can barely muster the energy to do anything, but sleep. Vince watches over Nicholas, offering him physical comfort or bringing him anything he needs. Then there are the other times he’s perfectly fine and they go do the things that other couples do as if nothing has happened. 

“It’s just from working too hard,” Nicholas says to alleviate Vince’s worries. Then he gets that mischievous glint in his eyes as he crawls on top of Vince. “Maybe you should fuck the stress out of me.”

Vince more than happily obliges him and ends up bending Nicholas over the kitchen counter, thrusting into him as he leaves fingerprints on his hips. It ends in two toe-curling orgasms. Afterward, they head to the bathroom to shower off. 

As Vince rinses the soap from his body, he begins to chuckle which earns a tired, but curious expression from Nicholas. “I’ll never be able to look at that counter without thinking of you bent over it,” he says with a smile. He kisses the tip of Nicholas’ nose before getting out of the shower stall. “I’ll order some delivery. Is pizza okay with you?”

Nicholas nods. “That’s fine,” he replies with a yawn.

“You okay?” Vince asks as he starts to towel off.

His boyfriend pokes his head out of the shower and smiles at him. “This American chap wore me out,” he jokes. “Is it alright if I lie down while we wait for dinner to arrive?”

“Fine by me, baby,” Vince says. He darts over to Nicholas and pecks him on his wet lips. “I love you.”

Nicholas’ face brightens at his words. “I love you, too. I won’t be more than a moment more.”

“Take your time,” Vince tells him as he finishes drying himself off. He goes into the bedroom to throw on some clothes. He grabs his cell phone and turns towards the bathroom. “What kind of pizza do you want?” he hollers over the sound of running water. Nicholas doesn’t reply, the shower door slides open. 

“Nick, your pizza,” Vince calls before pulling a sweater over his head. “What kind?” He begins dialing the number from his contacts when he realizes Nicholas hasn’t said a word. Vince walks toward the bathroom. “Nick?”

That’s when he hears the sound of a body falling and hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Vince swears his heart stops for a moment before his brain kicks in and he rushes into the steam filled bathroom. Upon Nicholas lying on the floor, Vince lets out a gasp and hurries to shut off the water. He notices spots of blood on the corner of the counter and under Nicholas’ head, where it spreads onto the already wet tiles. As he kneels down next to his boyfriend, Vince presses two fingers against Nicholas’ pulse while he dials emergency services. He trembles while he tells the operator what happened as an ambulance is dispatched to his flat. Afraid to aggravate an unseen injury, Vince doesn’t move him as he grabs a washcloth to press to Nicholas’ forehead in an effort to staunch the bleeding. 

“Nick?” Vince calls. “Come on, baby. Open those baby blues for me.”

It takes a few minutes, but soon Nicholas begins to come around. His consciousness barely scrapes the surface as Nicholas mumbles incoherently. He doesn’t seem to realize that Vince is speaking to him, let alone asking him questions; it worries him all the more. 

He only leaves when the ambulance crew arrives at his front door. Vince lets them inside and tries his best to explain what happened. They take Nicholas’ vitals and prepare to transport him. As they load his boyfriend onto the gurney, Vince grabs their wallets and cell phones before following them out of the flat. 

It’s a small mercy that they let Vince ride in the back of the ambulance with them. He holds Nicholas’ hand the entire way to the hospital with his mouth hovering near his boyfriend’s ear. “Please baby,” he whispers as his voice cracks. “Please open your eyes.”

When they are pulling into the ambulance bay, Nicholas’ eyes flutter open much to Vince’s relief. It becomes very clear that he’s suffering a concussion; Nicholas can barely focus on the penlight the technician shines into his eyes or answer the questions being asked. 

“You’ll need to wait for a bit while he gets settled in,” the technician tells Vince as they roll him into the triage area. “Once they stitch up the laceration and run some scans, you’ll be able to sit with him.”

Vince watches as Nicholas disappears behind a curtain. “What about the doctor?” he asks numbly.

“The physician will be with him in a few moments,” she says kindly. “You should probably call his parents; let them know that he’s here.”

He blinks. “Where are we again?” The ambulance ride has been a blur and honestly, Vince is sure that _someone_ told him which hospital they were heading to, but seeing Nicholas hooked up to medical equipment and his head wrapped up in gauze robbed him of his focus.

“University College Hospital,” she replies, kindly. “He’s in good hands, Mr. Stevens.”

Vince swallows and politely excuses himself to go to the waiting room. On a Friday night, it’s fairly quiet and he has his pick of seating. He stumps into a plastic chair and runs through all the scenarios that could have caused this to happen. Vince wonders if he was too rough, if the shower was too hot, if he did something… 

His thoughts come to a screeching halt as Nicholas’ phone begins to ring in his jacket pocket. Vince pulls out the device and nearly jumps out of his seat when he sees stares _Uncle Edward_ on the screen. “Shit,” he curses, sliding his thumb across the plastic to answer it. “Hello?”

“Who is this and why do you have my nephew’s phone?” demands the infamous family member. 

Vince swallows as the man instantly puts the fear of God in him. “I’m a friend of his; Vince Stevens,” he replies. “Look…I was just about to call you; Nicholas fell and hit his head and I had to call an ambulance.”

He hears Edward swearing. “Where are you?”

“University College Hospital,” Vince replies. “The doctor is with him right now.”

“Could you get a nurse on the phone?” he asks, sounding worried. “There is some information I need to give them about Nicholas.”

“Sure,” Vince says without hesitation as he gets up and walks over triage. He pokes his head into the area he saw the emergency room staff bring Nicholas. The first thing Vince sees is a doctor stitching up the gash to his boyfriend’s forehead. A nurse frowns at him until he holds up his hand, showing her the cell phone. “I have his uncle on the phone. He wanted to speak with someone about his medical history.”

The nurse guides him out of the curtained off area, where Vince gives her the cell phone. “This is Nurse Messing,” she says into the phone. “The doctor is with a patient at the moment, but I can pass along any information you tell me.” 

Vince starts to chew on his thumbnail, watching as the nurse and Nicholas’ uncle speak to each other. He is surprised when she hands the phone back to him. 

“He would like to speak with you,” she says before darting behind the curtain again, leaving Vince alone in the middle of triage.

He presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Thank you for doing that,” Nicholas’ uncle says. “I am about four hours outside of London, but I’m on my way. Is possible that you can stay with him until I get there?”

Vince nods. “Of course,” he replies. After saying his goodbyes, Vince sits back down and waits for any news on his lover. An hour later, the same nurse who spoke to Nicholas’ uncle approaches Vince and gently shakes his shoulder to wake him. “You can sit with him now,” she tells him.

Eager to see Nicholas, Vince is out of the chair like a shot. “How is he?”

“He’s resting,” she explains as they walk towards triage. “I wouldn’t expect much out of him right now, but your friend will appreciate the company until his uncle arrives.”

The nurse walks towards a private triage room. A shiver goes down his spine as he hears Nicholas’ vitals on the monitors upon walking into the room. She pulls at a curtain, revealing his lover in a hospital bed. He’s been put into a flimsy gown and covered with blankets. He’s still pale and there is a brilliant purple bruise forming on his forehead, half hidden by a bandage covering his stitches. The oxygen mask is gone, though its absence does nothing to calm Vince’s nerves. He sits down next to Nicholas and takes his hand into his, minding the pulse oximetry on his boyfriend’s finger. 

The nurse says nothing as she makes note of Nicholas’ vitals before discreetly leaving them. The curtain shuts again and they finally have their privacy. Vince leans up and presses a gentle kiss to Nicholas’ cheek, lingering to inhale the familiar scent of his skin and listen to his steady breathing.

“I’m here if you need me,” Vince whispers, squeezing Nicholas’ hand.

He wants to crawl into the bed with him and hold Nicholas in his arms, though jostling him would probably get Vince thrown out of the hospital. He resigns himself to watching over Nicholas, who wakes up intermittently when nurses come to check on them. Before he falls back asleep, he gives Vince a small smile and that’s all Vince gets out of him.

At some point, Vince joins him, pillowing his head on his arm that is resting on the bed. A pair of voices wakes him as they speak in hushed tones behind the curtain. 

“Your nephew said that he felt an anxiety attack coming on and went to get his medication,” the doctor quietly explains. “He slipped on the tiles on his way out of the shower.”

Vince hears a man cursing under his breath. “Nicky,” he sighs, worried.

“I would like to admit him for observation as a precaution,” the doctor continues. “Dr. Patel will be coming to see him in the morning.”

“Yes, she called to tell me.”

The curtain slides open as Vince lifts his head off the mattress. He blinks at the doctor and a dignified gentleman with graying hair, who he presumes to be Nicholas’ uncle. The Viscount sees their clasped hands and raises a brow, but says nothing. 

“There is some paperwork that you’ll need to sign before we bring him upstairs,” the doctor says. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Nicholas’ uncle nods and approaches the bed as the doctor leaves. He pats Nicholas’ shoulder and clasps it gently before looking directly at Vince. “Has he woken up?”

“A few times,” Vince replies as he straightens his posture and lets go of Nicholas’ hand.

Edward sighs and takes a seat opposite of Vince. “So you must be the reason why Nicky hasn’t been home as much,” he says pointedly. 

Vince’s cheeks start to burn despite hearing stories about Edward’s straightforwardness; the man is certainly intimidating. He tries to come up with something to say but ends up stuttering out half-formed sentences. 

This seems to amuse Nicholas’ uncle. “Nicholas can be quite secretive when it comes to his personal life. Given our history I cannot fault him there,” Edward explains.

“He said that you two are on better terms,” Vince adds quickly.

The Viscount glances at his nephew with a rueful smile. “We are,” Edward tells him. “I think he is still afraid that I’ll be angry with him for doing what he wants, but in truth, I’d rather see him happy. More than anything in this world.” He pauses, turning his dark eyes to Vince. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Nicky _truly_ happy.”

Vince says nothing.

“I suppose he told you about his parents?” The Viscount doesn’t wait for Vince to acknowledge him. “How do you begin to explain to a little boy that his parents aren’t coming home? I think I did a terrible job of it. Honestly, there are a lot of things I should have done when Nicky was growing up. If his aunt, my Margaret, were still alive, I think things would have been easier for us. We couldn’t have children of our own, but when Nicholas was born we were overjoyed. He was such a happy baby—always laughing and smiling. My sister and brother-in-law doted on him as did we. Maggie and I would go visit them in Genovia often until she became ill.”

Vince waits for Edward to continue; he knows from Nicholas that his aunt died from breast cancer. Hearing about his boyfriend’s childhood from his uncle entrances him. Nicholas rarely speaks of the time before his parents died, probably because he doesn’t vividly remember them or it’s too painful.

“Maggie passed when Nicky was three and his parents a few years later. Suddenly, I was a parent with no idea what to do,” the Viscount explains. “We split our time between Genovia and England because I felt he needed to know his heritage. Nicky went to the best schools, had the best tutors at his beck and call, all the things children should be allowed to have, god willing. What I should have done was to make sure he was alright.”

“He never said he had an unhappy childhood,” Vince offers, gently.

Edward chuckles sadly. “Just because he said that doesn’t make it true,” he replies. “I should have _never_ pitted him against the Thermopolis family and put him in the position I did. I was a stupid, stubborn man who only wanted the best for him and in the end, I nearly lost him. He holds onto so much guilt for choosing them over me. Nicky doesn’t say so, but I can tell.” He pauses for a moment, his features darkening. “And what they did to him; what I _allowed_ them to do. Using him up and discarding him…I could _kill_ them.”

Vince glances at Nicholas and realizes that there are so many things he has yet to learn about his boyfriend. “I never knew he had panic attacks,” he admits.

“Neither did I until he came back to London and was hospitalized with Acute Stress Reaction for a week,” the Viscount says with a tinge of contempt. He must see the confused expression on Vince's face and quietly explains, “A nervous breakdown.”

Vince feels his chest constrict in sympathy. “He never told me,” he admits.

“Nicky probably didn’t want you to worry about him,” the Viscount assures. “He’s doing much better now, though I think his physician will need to adjust his medication in light of this evening’s events.”

Vince shakes his head. “I just wish he said _something_ ,” he tells the viscount. “I just…I want to make him happy. For him to be happy.”

“How did you two meet?” Nicholas’ uncle asks.

“In New York.”

Edward’s brows rise in curiosity. “If you two were together, why did he come back to London?” he asks, getting straight to the point. Truth be told, the Viscount is just as imposing as he is regal and he makes Vince unusually nervous.

“We didn’t have a fight, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Vince replies carefully. He looks at Nicholas and longs to run his knuckles over his lover’s cheek. “I was married when we first got involved and…I ended up divorcing my wife to be with him. Then things happened and he disappeared before everything was finalized. I didn’t even know he was in London until a colleague mentioned the restaurant to me.” 

Nicholas’ uncle remains quiet, though a disapproving look appears on his face and Vince realizes how it all sounds.

“He makes me want to be a better person,” he whispers, taking Nicholas’ hand into his. “And I would _never_ want to hurt him.”

“You don’t seem like the type, I suppose,” the Viscount replies. The doctor interrupts them to ask him to come sign Nicholas’ admission papers. As he rises from his seat, Edward bends over to give Nicholas to kiss his forehead. 

Once the paperwork gets sorted, they bring Nicholas upstairs and settle him into a private room. By then, both Vince and Edward are exhausted and waver on their feet while the hospital staff huddle around the bed. 

“I have a driver that can take you home,” Edward tells him.

Vince shakes his head, declining the offer. “I don’t want him to wake up alone,” he says.

“I can stay with him,” Edward replies. He glances at Vince and sighs. “You are exhausted, young man, and you won’t get much rest in that hospital chair.” He places a hand on Vince’s shoulder and smiles kindly. “Go home and, in the morning, you can come back. Nicky will be awake by then.” Edward must notice the conflicted expression on Vince’s face as he looks at Nicholas. “Mr. Stevens, I promise you that he’ll still be here when you return.” 

Vince resigns himself to returning to his flat for the rest of the night. He sighs heavily at the prospect. “May I have a moment to say goodbye?”

“Of course,” the Viscount tells him, taking out his cell phone. “I’ll have my driver, Louis, pull up around the front.”

Once the other man disappears down the hospital corridor, Vince goes to Nicholas. Curled on his side, he clutches the blankets between his knuckles. While Vince watches Nicholas, he reaches out to touch his hair before leaning in to kiss his warm forehead. “I love you,” he whispers to his boyfriend. “I love you so much. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” 

Vince hears the Viscount clear his throat and realizes that he’s witnessed the intimate moment, but Vince doesn’t care. Tired, Vince says goodnight to Edward once he’s received a description of the car and goes downstairs to meet the driver. When Vince gets home, he goes to clean up the mess left behind from hours ago. Vince scrubs up the blood in the bathroom until it’s pristine and he has no idea how he manages to do it. 

In the end, it’s almost like nothing happened.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Vince returns to the hospital and brings Nicholas a change of clothes.

Upon seeing his boyfriend awake and in fairly good spirits, Vince breathes a bit more easily. Sitting up in bed, Nicholas eats his breakfast while watching the news until he notices Vince in the door.

When his face practically lights up, it’s enough to make Vince forget about yesterday’s events and the awful bruising on Nicholas’ forehead. He gives Nicholas a peck on the top of his head and closes his eyes, silently thanking every deity he can think of for his boyfriend’s improved health. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Sore,” Nicholas says as he leans into Vince’s side.

Vince studies the bruise that has spread from his boyfriend’s hairline to one side of his forehead. “I can see why,” he deadpans. “Where’s your uncle?”

“He ran home to shower and change,” Nicholas explains as he starts to eat again. He watches Vince sit down in the chair next to his bed. “So you two finally met,” he says after a while.

Vince shrugs. “I guess you could say that,” he jokes, grinning.

“If it’s any consolation, he liked you,” Nicholas tells him as he sets his fork down on the plate. He leans back against the pillows and smiles shyly at Vince. “I’m sorry you had to deal, especially after what happened last night.”

Vince reaches for his hand, minding the IVs, and laces their fingers together. “It was fine,” he assures with a smile. “And you weren’t joking about him; I was _definitely_ scared shitless!”

“You thought I was kidding?”

“Perhaps.” He and Nicholas chuckle before Vince leans in to kiss him gently on the lips. They remain in a lingering kiss until there is a knock on the door. Vince remains close to Nicholas as the nurse comes in to take away the breakfast tray, stroking the back of his neck until they are left alone once more.

“He mentioned that he told you about my hospitalization when I came back to London. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Nicholas whispers.

Vince caresses his boyfriend’s stubble-covered cheek. “Baby, it’s fine,” he says.

“I _should have_ told you,” Nicholas counters.

Vince shakes his head. “You would have told me on your own time,” he says.

“That’s not the point, Vincent!” Nicholas snaps, his cheeks flushing. “You were honest with me about what happened back in New York and I should have said something instead of allowing this to happen the way it did. That’s why I get tired sometimes; from the anxiety. Running the restaurant can be stressful and exhausting...”

Vince frowns. “Baby, do you see me getting upset?”

“No.”

“Then don’t feel like you should have done something,” Vince says as he cards his fingers through Nicholas’ hair. “If you want to tell me about what happened or, even if you don’t, it’s fine. Just  _never_ apologize to me. Not for this.”

Nicholas sighs. “Okay,” he whispers, still sounding upset.

“What can I do?” Vince asks.

“Lie with me?” Nicholas replies.

Smiling, Vince kicks off his shoes and crawls into bed with Nicholas. They mold their bodies together and lie there, watching television in silence until they both doze off. It’s nearly identical to what they do at Vince’s flat, except on the couch. Usually, Nicholas is between his legs with his head pillowed against Vince’s stomach while he absently strokes his boyfriend’s hair. They are in their sweats and t-shirts, having changed out of their work clothes, and there is take out on the coffee table. It’s comfortable and feels oddly right to Vince, who was used to having to sit at the dining room table with the good china in front of him.

A discreet knock rouses Vince, causing him to snort loudly. In turn, it wakes Nicholas, who grumbles about having their nap interrupted. He burrows into Vince’s neck.

“Have I come at a bad time?” asks an Indian woman as she enters the room to see Vince and Nicholas squished together on the hospital bed.

Both men blink their eyes as they pull apart, too tired to be flustered. Vince swings his legs over the edge of the bed as he palms his face. 

“No,” Nicholas yawns. “Just napping.”

The woman smiles when Vince looks at her. “I’m Asha Patel,” she says, extending her hand. “You must be Vincent.”

He shakes her hand. “Just call me Vince,” he replies with a tired smile.

“Dr. Patel is my therapist,” Nicholas tells him.

Vince nods in understanding. “I’ll make myself scarce then,” he says, grabbing his shoes and jacket. He sits across from Nicholas’ bed and pulls on his shoes. “Do you need anything?” He sees Nicholas shaking his head and chuckles at his boyfriend’s bleary expression. Vince goes to him, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“We shouldn’t be more than an hour,” Dr. Patel tells him. “And then, Nicholas will be discharged shortly after.”

Vince grins at his boyfriend. “Well, I’ll see you in an hour,” he declares, pressing another kiss to Nicholas’ hair. On his way out of the room, Vince bumps into Edward, who comes down the hallway. “Dr. Patel is with him,” he says.

The Viscount looks towards Nicholas’ room. “Ah well, I’ll see him after,” he comments, sounding disappointed. He turns to Vince. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you,” Vince says.

To his surprise, the Viscount laughs and motions for Vince to follow him. “Come—I found a coffee shop on the maternity floor that’s halfway decent.”

Once they both have a cup of coffee and have found a place to sit, the viscount studies Vince as he blows on his beverage. “You look exhausted.”

“I could barely sleep last night,” Vince admits. “I ended up cleaning my flat because all I could think about was Nick just lying there…” He takes a sip of his coffee and tries to swallow down the lump building in his throat. “Sorry.”

“You care about him.”

“Very much,” Vince replies quietly. He glances up at the other man and sighs. “You should know that when he met me, I was an awful person; completely selfish, arrogant, just not a good man. The more I got to know Nick, the more I wanted to be a better person. Someone who deserves him.”

Edward nods. If he’s surprised by Vince’s candor, he doesn’t show it. “If it means anything, I think you are good for him,” he says. “And good to him. I haven’t seen Nicky happy like this in years.”

“That means a lot,” Vince says as tears burn his eyes.

“He’s being discharged soon and afterward, I was going to bring him back to the house so he can get some rest,” the Viscount explains.

It makes sense since they have servants and a personal chef and means that Nicholas wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

“Would you like to spend the weekend with us?”

Vince finds himself back at his flat, packing a bag for the weekend, while Louis waits downstairs. He goes as quickly and efficiently as he can while his nerves thrum with excitement to see his boyfriend released from the hospital.

Besides, the idea of having Nicholas wrapped up in his arms as they sleep is very appealing.

 

* * *

 

Louis reminds him of the actor Jean Reno, though slightly more personable.

He brings Vince to the townhouse near Hyde Park, which is more like a small estate nestled in London and helps him with his bag while a woman called Marie warmly greets Vince. She happens to be the Viscount’s longtime secretary and has known Nicholas since he was an infant.

Marie shows him to Nicholas’ room on the second floor, breezing by the photographs that capture Vince’s attention as they walk. He pauses in front of a black and white one of a light-haired boy with his parents. It’s clearly Nicholas, though he’s all chubby cheeked and giggling as his parents try to corral him for a picture.

“He was two when that was taken,” Marie comments over Vince’s shoulder. “That’s his mother Helena, the Viscount’s sister, and his father, Alexandre.”

Vince nods as he moves closer to the photograph. “He’s the spitting image of his dad,” he says as he gazes at Nicholas’ father.

“Frightening, isn’t it?” Marie says ruefully. “They were such a beautiful family and Nicholas was always laughing, always running around with his parents trailing after him. And getting into the usual mischief that little ones do.” She starts to giggle a moment later. “One time, he interrupted a Genovian state dinner at the embassy here in London. In the middle of the Queen’s speech, this little boy comes toddling in looking for his mummy because he couldn’t find his nappy. Everyone in attendance was charmed by Nicky and how couldn’t you be? He looked like a cherub.”

Vince can almost picture the incident and chuckles. “Did they find his nappy?”

“Yes,” Marie replies. “Though Queen Clarisse wasn’t very amused. She never had a sense of humor and was always about decorum. I can’t say I liked her much.”

They continue on as Marie points out more photographs of Nicholas growing up. Vince can see his boyfriend’s demeanor change as the years progress, especially once his parents died. Given how Edward has chronicled Nicholas’ upbringing in photographs and paintings, he is quite clearly well loved.

Marie shows him into Nicholas’ room and turns on the lights as they enter. The best word that Vince can use to describe it is stately. It’s far from ostentatious—more classic than anything else and suits Nicholas. There are the usual fixings of a bedroom—books, knick-knacks, photographs—though one thing catches Vince off guard: an easel sits next to the window. There is a canvas mounted on the frame and from what he can see, has already been worked on. 

Vince drops his bag next to the foot of the bed and walks over to the easel where he sees a charcoal outline of the park across the way. The detail is exquisite, even though it looks like Nicholas is just beginning.

“He painted the landscape in the foyer as well,” Marie tells him.

Vince nods, still staring at the canvas in awe. “He said that he only had an appreciation for art.”

“Rubbish,” Marie counters. “That’s Nicky being modest!” The sound of the gates opening outside ceases all conversation as Marie rushes to the window. “They’re back! Come.”

Vince follows her downstairs and into the foyer just as Nicholas and Edward close the door. Marie throws her arms around Nicholas while babying and chastising him for giving everyone a fright. The viscount rolls his eyes. “He’s quite all right, Marie,” the Viscount assures his secretary.

Marie shoots him a glare. “Hush you!” she snaps, wrapping an arm around Nicholas’ back. “Look at him, Edward! He looks like death warmed over! And his face!” She cups his cheeks, looking at the bandage and bruises disapprovingly.

“Marie, I’m fine,” Nicholas assures her with a smile.

She doesn’t seem very convinced. “You look exhausted, Nicholas Alexandre George Francis Devereaux!”

“Marie,” Nicholas groans, rolling his eyes before looking at his uncle for help.

The Viscount clears his throat and places a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “We all need a bit of rest, to be honest,” he says.

“My lovely boy, you gave me such a fright,” Marie tells Nicholas as she folds her arms around him.

“You still love me anyway,” he quips, earning a swat to his shoulder. He grins over Marie’s shoulder none the less and hugs her tighter. 

Marie ends up calling Nicholas a scoundrel, though it’s purely in jest. It seems to Vince that the Viscount’s household adores his nephew and dotes on him like Nicholas is their own. Marie gives him a peck on the cheek before shooing Nicholas and Vince away. 

“I think she likes you,” Nicholas states as he closes the bedroom door behind them. “Did she tell you the nappy story?”

Vince chuckles. “Yes,” he answers, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and holding him close. “I never pictured you to interrupt state affairs.”

“I have my moments,” Nicholas replies, guiding them towards the bed. He presses his lips against Vince’s throat, running his tongue over the skin.

Vince groans softly into his hair and squeezes one of Nicholas’ ass cheeks. “You have a concussion,” he whispers.

“Then don’t jostle me around too much,” Nicholas says as he mouths Vince’s neck.

Vince eases Nicholas onto the mattress, his hands sliding under his boyfriend’s shirt and touching skin. “You like it when I jostle you around,” he replies heatedly as he leans over the span of skin below Nicholas’ belly button and licks a stripe across it.

Nicholas sucks in a breath and shivers under Vince’s mouth that keeps moving across his warm skin. He pushes the shirt over his lover’s torso, his mouth following. Nicholas mewls softly when Vince finds a sensitive spot under his ribcage and laves it with his tongue until his lover pulls him up for a fiery kiss. Nicholas is tugging at his sweater, bunching the fabric in his fists as he haphazardly tries to get it off Vince’s body.

The vibration of Nicholas’ frustrated moan makes Vince chuckle as he pulls off of him to assist with the removal of the offending clothing.

Before it even touches the floor, Nicholas is hungrily sucking on one of his nipples. Vince chokes back a moan of his own and tightly grips his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Vince growls into his hair. “That tongue of yours is going to get us in trouble.”

Nicholas’ teeth gently apply pressure to the nub as the tip of his tongue flicks it in reply. Vince grabs both of his boyfriend’s wrists and pins them to the mattress, sliding his chest away to kiss Nicholas’ slick lips. He starts them off slow and languid, building on the younger man’s need as Vince does some teasing of his own. He ruts his crotch against Nicholas’, grinning when a muffled whine erupts from his lover’s mouth.

“Shh,” he whispers into Nicholas’ ear before taking off his shirt. “Someone could hear us.” 

Nicholas moans again just like Vince knew he would.

He figured out fairly early on in their relationship that the young aristocrat got off on a mixture of roughness and danger with a bit of a gentle touch mixed in.

The latter seems more appropriate given he has just been released from the hospital, but Vince can use the danger of being caught to his advantage. 

“Is that what you want?” Vince asks as he mouths and licks his way down Nicholas’ body. “You want someone to hear us, baby?”

He starts to slowly, painfully take his time unbuttoning his boyfriend’s jeans, making sure his fingers brush against his clothed erection.

“You want someone to know what we’re doing in here?”

He glances up to see Nicholas reclined on his elbows, eyes closed, and nodding eagerly. There is a flush spread from his throat and down his chest, rosy and full of arousal. Vince slips his hand inside of Nicholas’ jeans and palms his cock through his underwear. 

“Oh… _Vince_ ,” Nicholas utters through cherry red lips, bucking his hips at the sudden contact.

Vince squeezes, watching Nicholas tense under him, and grins as he goes to tease his earlobe. “Or can you be quiet?” he taunts over his lover’s heavy breathing.

Vince pulls on Nicholas’ lobe with his teeth, earning a broken cry of pleasure. It’s not loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the house, but enough to make Vince want to keep his boyfriend quiet.

“Maybe I should do what we did at that restaurant in New York? Do you remember that, Nick? How I fucked you over the table while you screamed into my hand?”

“God _yes_ ,” Nicholas pants.

The memory of a cramped booth with Nicholas under him makes Vince’s blood turn molten. He makes quick work of both of their remaining clothing, licking up the salty precum on Nicholas’ pelvis before he lies over him.

“You do you know how hard that gets me?” he asks as he ruts their cocks against each other. “Picturing my cock going in and out of that tight ass while anyone could have heard us?”

Nicholas reaches for him and wraps an arm around his back as his hips move in time with Vince’s. “You felt so good,” he purrs into his neck. “I thought you were going to drive me mad with how slow you were going.”

“You like it nice and slow,” Vince counters, pausing to moan behind closed lips when their cockheads rub together. “And _deep_. You love it when I’m so deep inside you that the only thing you can do is take it.”

Nicholas arches against him, letting out a muffled cry into Vince’s shoulder. “Vince, oh god, Vince,” he chants as their hips move faster.

He’s not surprised when Nicholas presses their mouths together in a sloppy, disjointed kiss to muffle the sounds he’s making. Vince groans at the first sting of fingernails digging into his skin and radiating down his back.

Vince loves that Nicholas, despite what gentlemanly airs he may possess, becomes purely uninhibited during sex. He is vocal, willing to experiment, and looks so _damn beautiful_ when he’s been thoroughly fucked. 

Nicholas’ grip on his back deepens in time with the stifled noises being swallowed by Vince’s lips and tongue. His hips are bucking wildly against Vince’s, their cocks rubbing faster and faster until Nicholas stiffens against him, shuddering as he cums.

Vince breaks the kiss and buries his face into the elegant curve of Nicholas’ neck, mouthing the sweaty and warm skin as he chases his own climax.

“I love you,” he whispers over and over like a litany until he cums, dribbling his semen onto his lover. He grunts quietly into Nicholas’ collarbone, taking both their cocks in hand to stroke them.

In the aftermath of his orgasm, Vince sees Nicholas below him, deliciously flushed, sweaty, and glassy-eyed and pulls him into a deep kiss. Eventually, Vince ends the kiss with a peck on the tip of Nicholas’ nose when their hearts are no longer pounding from exertion.

He moves to the bandage on his forehead, kissing the bruise surrounding it with a feather-light press of his lips, before returning to Nicholas’ swollen mouth.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” Nicholas asks as he nuzzles Vince’s chin.

Vince snorts in laughter and shakes his head. “Even if they did, would your uncle and his staff tell you?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never brought someone home with me that wasn’t a friend from school or university,” he replies, brushing Vince’s hair off his forehead. “And they _always_ stayed in the guest wing.”

“I bet they did,” Vince responds as he kisses Nicholas again. He feels the slip and slide of semen against his skin and decides they should clean up before resuming post-coital activities. “Do you have something I can use to wipe you off?”

Nicholas gestures towards a closed door. “The bathroom is through there,” he tells Vince.

“Wait here,” Vince says, lightly tapping his flank as he slips off the mattress. He walks across the bedroom naked and goes into the bathroom, finding a washcloth on the counter when he turns the lights on.

Vince catches his reflection in the mirror - sweat laden hair, flushed skin, and swollen lips - and chuckles to himself as he wets the cloth in the sink.

He turns off the light and returns to Nicholas, who is laying on the mattress. His spent cock is wet and limply resting against his hip, surrounded by golden brown pubic hair that trails up to his navel. Vince grins as he crawls back onto the mattress and wipes up their commingling semen from Nicholas’ skin.

“You look like a work of art,” he mutters into his lover’s hair.

“A disaster is what you mean to say,” Nicholas quips.

Vince shakes his head as he runs the washcloth over Nicholas’ hip. “No,” he counters, his fingers tracing Nicholas’ iliac furrow. “You’re perfect.”

“Even battered and bruised?”

“I think you mean thoroughly fucked and completely wanton,” Vince corrects. “And _slightly_ bruised.” He ghosts over the bruise on Nicholas’s forehead and smiles down at him. “Ready for a nap?”

They dress in their discarded underwear and t-shirts before crawling between the sheets of Nicholas’ bed, pressing their bodies together.

Neither of them remembers falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

Vince spends the weekend with Nicholas and his uncle, alternating between napping with or being napped on by Nicholas.

The latter is amusing since his boyfriend is a fairly heavy sleeper and curls against Vince like he’s a cat, humming contentedly in his slumber. He resigns himself to be Nicholas’ body pillow, though he doesn’t mind. Watching his boyfriend like this is a wonderful thing and seems to be only of the few times that Nicholas is completely relaxed, but watching him wake up is even more beautiful. He loves seeing those cerulean irises when Nicholas opens his eyes and looks at Vince in the morning. It’s followed by a tired grin and his boyfriend’s need to curl up in his arms before getting started with their day.

On Saturday afternoon, Marie informs Nicholas that he has received something from the Genovian embassy. A dark expression crosses his face as he asks for it to be brought into the living room. It is a bouquet of delicate pink blossoms and peonies from a courier. There is a card, which Nicholas reads in silence before turning back to the flowers. 

Vince shares a glance with the Viscount—or Edward, as he insists to be called—and turns back to Nicholas, who looks none too pleased with the gift. He vaguely wonders if it was from the Queen, which could account for the shift in Nicholas’ mood. “Who’s it from?” he asks.

Rather than answering, Nicholas takes the bouquet and thrusts it into the lit fireplace. “Fuck you and your fucking pears!” he curses at the burning flowers.

“Nicholas Alexandre George Francis Devereaux!” Marie shrieks angrily. “That was a gift from _your_ Queen!”

Nicholas spins around, completely unguarded with his anger. “ _Elle n'est pas ma reine_!” he growls as he storms out. His bare feet pound against the hardwood floors on his way up to his bedroom, followed by his bedroom door slamming shut.

“What the hell was _that_?” Vince asks once the shock has worn off.

Edward rises from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he says without answering Vince’s question. He sighs heavily and follows his wayward nephew to his room.

“I’m missing something,” Vince declares to Marie.

Marie nods. “The Dowager Queen and her Majesty sent their wishes for Nicholas’ swift recovery,” she explains over the sound of Nicholas and Edward arguing upstairs in French. There is the sound of glass breaking and the Viscount’s voice soaring over his nephew’s. “Oh dear…”

Vince knows that Nicholas has been on rather delicate terms with the Genovian royal family for years, even more so as of late. He is beloved in Genovia and its people, just as they adored his parents, whereas the people like Queen Amelia well enough, but it is not enough for the Dowager Queen Clarisse. 

Even after Nicholas cut ties with his uncle and became the Queen’s boyfriend, the Dowager Queen and her advisors made him jump through hoops to prove that his loyalties were with the crown.

He wasn’t viewed as part of the royal family, but as a threat no matter what good deed he performed. Nicholas dutifully attended ribbon cuttings, state affairs, and forewent a life of his own just to make them happy. 

By the time it was over and Nicholas was cast out in favor of Philippe-Louis de Bourbon-Busset, he was mentally exhausted and living alone in his parent’s apartment in New York.

A year later, Vince saw Nicholas sitting in a lounge as he nursed a glass of scotch. He had looked so beautifully wounded under the low lights that Vince excused himself from flirting with a busty redhead to introduce himself.

His original intent was to fuck and discard Nicholas once Vince had his fun that first night they were together. Vince had woken up in the middle of the night and saw the young lord asleep on the other side of the bed with the sheets dipping low on his body.

This was usually when Vince would wake his conquest and tell them to get dressed while he called them a cab, but instead, he found himself staring at fair skin dotted with freckles.

He crawled across the mattress to admire the strong body and pillowy pink lips that Vince had fucked into hours before. 

Vince pulled down the sheets, revealing Nicholas’ flaccid penis and shapely ass, and ran his index finger down his back until he reached a lube slick cleft between his cheeks.

He heard Nicholas grunt as he circled his finger around his hole, remembering that he was the first man who had taken the young lord. The memory got him instantly hard and he sunk his finger into Nicholas, causing him to moan. 

“I’m going to fuck you again,” Vince whispered in his ear. His finger brushed against Nicholas’ prostate, earning another moan. “I’ll fuck you until morning if you let me.”

To his delight, Nicholas let him do just that and let Vince whisper filthy words into his ear, responding back with some of the same and begging.

He realizes now that he was destined to fall in love with him.

“I hope Edward can calm him down before Nicky has another fit,” Marie laminates as she paces the room, her heels clicking on the floor. She turns to Vince. “Perhaps I should get his medicine.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Edward says as he comes back into the living room looking worn out. He gestures towards the upstairs. “Nicky will be down in a few moments.”

“Edward, I heard glass breaking!” Marie exclaims.

Edward slumps into the armchair he was previously occupying and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Marie, it’s only serious when he starts yelling in Italian,” he sighs.

“For heaven’s sake,” Marie cries in frustration. “Crazy - the lot of you! But not _you_ , Vincent dear. Such a lovely young man.” She turns to Edward with a sour expression on her face. “I suspect you want the good scotch.”

Edward nods. “Yes please,” he replies. “And bring Nicholas’ stationary - I’ll need to compose a thank you note since someone refuses to do it. I’ll not have my nephew be called ungrateful by those _people_.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend passes without incident, as do the weeks that follow.

Everyone returns to their routine schedules and things are calm. Nicholas’ bruise fades from purple to blue to green then to yellow before disappearing altogether. There is a thin pink scar on his forehead that is barely noticeable unless one knows where to look.

Vince likes to press his lips against it, anointing it with his silent thanks that his boyfriend is healthy and whole. 

In the middle of September, the restaurant has a celebration of being open for a year. The party is good, the food and drinks are better, but nothing is appealing as seeing Nicholas in a charcoal gray suit. Vince watches him from the bar as he charms a reporter.

“I have no idea how he does it,” Harry says before taking a sip of his drink.

Peter cranes his head and shakes it. “It’s in his DNA, mate,” he counters. “Or he went to finishing school.”

“You mean Eton?” Harry counters.

“He didn’t go to _bloody_ Eton!” Peter snaps, clearly offended. “ _I_ went to Eton!”

Harry looks at Peter, then Vince. “No manners that one,” he comments. “Appalling.”

Vince laughs into his drink, amused by his boyfriend’s friends and business partners. They are good folks who genuinely care about Nicholas rather than use him for his status and are supportive of their friend’s relationship with a man.

It also doesn’t hurt that both Harry and Peter have a knack for making anyone feel welcomed into their social circle.

“So is the Viscount scarier with a rifle?” Peter asks Vince, trying to ignore Harry’s comment.

He shakes his head. “I have no idea why you think Edward is scary.”

“He lets _you_ call him Edward?” Peter squawks.

Harry snorts. “Why wouldn’t he?” he asks, waving a hand at Vince. “He’s a nice enough bloke, impeccably dressed.” He motions for them to lean in and adds in a low voice, “And apparently the best sex of our young Nicholas’ life…”

“I _really_ didn’t need to know that, Harry,” Peter grouses. “Thank you so very much for giving myself second-hand embarrassment and for making Vince feel uncomfortable. Refill Vince?”

Vince nods. “Yes please,” he says, whacking Harry on the arm at the same moment Nicholas looks over at them and makes a face. Vince shakes his head, silently gesturing to Harry.

He watches Nicholas politely excuse himself from the reporter’s company and weave his way through the crowd.

“What did he do now?” Nicholas sighs. He leans against the bar, trying to flag down one of the bartenders to get a drink.

Vince shrugs. “Apparently I am the best sex of your life,” whispers into his ear. He bursts out laughing as Nicholas’ arm shoots out and punches Harry in the bicep.

“Goddammit Harry!” Nicholas curses, shaking his head. “Keep your trap shut!”

Harry shrugs it off. “The bloke ought to know something _that_ important,” he tells them before finishing his drink and wandering off into the sea of people in the main dining area.

“Ready to leave?” Nicholas inquires as he tugs on his tie, loosening it. “I could really do with some greasy take out on the way back to your place.”

Vince shrugs. “The point of throwing a party is for you to _actually_ enjoy it,” he says.

“If I did that, it would turn into a disaster because Harry and Peter cannot be trusted to remain sober,” Nicholas states as he presses his hand into the small of Vince’s back and guides him out of the restaurant, saying their goodbyes as they leave.

Vince chuckles as they step into the warm night and start walking down the block. “But they can be trusted to make excellent food,” he offers, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders when they turn a corner.

“Yes,” Nicholas agrees. “But can we get something on the way? I think my stomach is about to eat itself.”

He nods, grinning at his lover's dramatics. “And after, I plan on using that tie of yours and tying your hands behind your back while you ride my cock.”

“Tell me more,” Nicholas pleads in a husky voice.

Vince does, whispering how he’ll bind Nicholas’ wrists with the ebony tie, using the long end to pull on him if he dares to stop. He tells him how they won’t need to prep him because they fucked several hours before the party. “Your hole is probably still nice and loose and ready for me,” he says.

Nicholas makes a sound of agreement, trying to contain himself since they are in public. He is aroused, judging by the sound of his breathing and how blown his pupils are when they pass by street lamps.

Vince describes in vivid detail about how he wants Nicholas to ride him —facing away from him—and how he won’t allow him to cum, wanting to slowly torture him.

“I’ll cum in inside you because I know you love it when I fill you up,” Vince utters in the elevator up to his flat, palming Nicholas’ erection through his trousers while he quietly whimpers. “Then I’ll flip you over and finger that sweet hole of yours until you beg me to suck your gorgeous cock.”

They make into the flat and manage to get to the bedroom, but Nicholas doesn’t end up riding Vince nor does the tie end up binding his hands together. It falls somewhere on the ground next to one of their loafers while they hungrily fuck on the floor. 

Vince has Nicholas on all fours as he pounds into him while his lover takes it so beautifully. He is holding onto his shoulders, stomach against firm back muscles, and using them as leverage to keep Nicholas immobilized.

It’s a shade too rough, too loud, and over far too quickly as Vince’s orgasm sets off Nicholas’ and they end up lying in a heap on the carpet.

“Someone should put your cock in a cast of solid gold,” Nicholas gasps. “And your mouth while they’re at it.”

Vince starts laughing against his lover’s slick skin, not caring if he aggravates the rug burn starting to form on his knees.

 

* * *

 

In mid-October, Nicholas receives an invitation to Genovia for Prince Philippe-Louis’ thirty-fifth birthday, which he plans to toss out until Edward stops him. 

“You haven’t attended a royal function in nearly three years,” Edward states as he snatches the embossed invitation out of Nicholas’ hands before he can tear it to pieces. “The people of Genovia _have_ noticed, Nicholas.”

Vince watches his boyfriend pace the library with a scowl embedded in his features. He has just come back from the restaurant and isn’t in the mood to be diplomatic.

At least he isn’t throwing a tantrum like before. 

“Ask me if I care what the people of Genovia think about their royal family?” Nicholas snaps bitterly.

Edward remains steadfastly calm. “Which you are a part of, being second in line to the throne.”

“Oh, believe _me_ , I am quite aware,” Nicholas hisses.

Vince exchanges a tense look with Edward but remains silent. These types of arguments have no place for him and the topic is a sensitive one, especially for Nicholas who treats the other half of lineage with bitter contempt.

“Can’t I send someone in my place?”

Edward scoffs. “Like who? Me? Surely you haven’t forgotten that I am _persona non grata_.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Nicholas retorts, eyes blazing.

“Nicholas, if you do not attend it will be considered an extremely direct _and_ public snubbing of the Queen and the Renaldi family,” Edward says tiredly.

Nicholas shrugs. “It’s not like the Dowager Queen can do anything, especially if I’m on English soil,” he grumbles as he starts to pick at a piece of carved wood on the wall. “Besides, Queen Elizabeth hates her!”

“Nicholas, that is _not_ the point!” Edward laments as Vince perks up and exclaims, “There _has to be_ a good story behind this!”

For a moment it looks like Nicholas is about to tell him when he is silenced by his uncle’s frown and quickly shuts his mouth. Edward’s nostrils flare for a moment before he speaks again.

“Nicholas, make an appearance. You’ve also neglected Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte,” he says. “Surely you’d like to take Vince to see it.”

Vince watches as Nicholas mulls over this idea. “He’ll need a new suit,” he finally comments.

“We can have him fitted for one,” Edward replies as if Vince is not even in the room.

This seems to appease Nicholas for the time being. He shrugs and makes to leave the room. “And not one of those stuffy _west-cots_ , uncle,” he grouses on the way out. “It’s bad enough I’ll have to wear one.”

A week and a half later, Vince finds himself stepping onto the tarmac of a private airport in Genovia. Nicholas is speaking with the driver about their luggage as they walk towards the sleek Bentley nearby. It’s adorned with two small purple flags mounted on the front that has the Devereaux family crest embroidered on the fabric. 

A line of reporters is behind a barricade maintained by security, calling out for Nicholas as flashes go off like fireworks.

Nicholas raises his hand and waves with a polite smile as he stands by the car, waiting for Vince. “I bet Clarisse is going to love this,” Nicholas says bitterly as he settles into the seat next to Vince.

He turns his head as the trunk is slammed shut and lets out a sigh of relief that they will be moving soon. Nicholas glances at Vince and flashes him a smile. “Thank you for coming.”

Vince returns the smile as he unbuttons his suit jacket. “Anything for you,” he says quietly so the driver won’t overhear. He mouths ‘I love you’ as the driver announces they are ready to proceed to Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte.

“We will be taking the main route, Lord Devereaux,” the driver tells them, ignoring Nicholas fidgeting in the backseat.

“I do not wish to overshadow the Queen Consort’s birthday festivities with my arrival, Lars,” Nicholas replies tightly.

The driver raises a brow. “My lord, the preparations have already been made with the Genovian Royal Guard. It is too late to change the route,” he states.

Nicholas sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Fine. Just be quick about it. I would like to give Mr. Stevens a tour of the estate before supper.”

The motorcade through the main road of Pyrus is not quick. People come out in droves to see the young lord’s car drive by, ignoring the fact that Nicholas is not returning their enthusiasm and would rather hide in the trunk with their luggage. 

Vince watches him put on a brave face and acknowledge the Genovians through the passenger window, who seem to absolutely adore him despite a three-year absence. They may not know this, but Nicholas’ actions are wooden at best and there is a spark of anxiety in his crystalline eyes. Before they landed, he observed his boyfriend taking Klonopin and downing it with a glass of water.

“I hate this,” Nicholas grumbles out of the corner of his mouth that is plastered with a false smile.

Vince moves his hand across the seat and strokes Nicholas’ pinkie finger with his own, linking them together once he is sure that the gesture is out of view of the driver. “I’m right here,” he whispers. 

The tension seems to ease out of Nicholas’ shoulders. Vince will need to come up with more flowery things to say, but for now, it’s enough.

 

* * *

 

Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte is not living up to its name.

In fact, it’s a sprawling five thousand acre estate tucked away at the base of the mountains of Genovia. It’s a stunning display of French Classical architecture and should be on a postcard (which Vince suspects it probably is).

“So you grew up here?” Vince asks as they wander the grounds close to the house. He whistles, awed by what he is seeing. “Jesus _fucking_ Christ!”

Nicholas rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen my uncle’s estate near Balmoral,” he counters as he plucks a dead leaf off a rosebud.

“True, but he doesn’t have a _moat_ at the front entrance,” Vince retorts.

 

* * *

 

The second day they are in Genovia is Prince Philippe-Louis’ birthday fête and the weather is perfect for an evening in the rose garden at the Queen’s palace. 

Vince is already dressed in his new suit and waiting for Nicholas to be finished getting ready.

Unlike him, his boyfriend has various adornments he must wear in the presence of the royal family that takes time getting into. He is wandering through the hallways outside of Nicholas’ chambers, looking at portraits of his various Genovian family members that are mounted on the walls.

The interior is just as exquisite as the exterior, though Vince can understand why Nicholas avoids coming here. It reminds him too much of his parents’ absence, which linger like ghosts in the wings of the estate.

“I look like a penguin,” he hears Nicholas complain from around the corner.

Vince chuckles. “I bet you make a very handsome penguin,” he replies as he turns around. His jaw falls as he gets his first look at Nicholas, mostly from shock. There is _some_ amusement, but mostly shock.

Nicholas is incredibly handsome in his waistcoat, sash, and medals. He has a look of uncertainty on his clean-shaven face as he approaches Vince. “This how we truss up birds in Genovia,” he gripes.

“Do you think your tailor will be pissed if I rip it off you later?” Vince asks. He doesn’t let Nicholas reply and pulls him into a kiss. He probes his boyfriend’s mouth, taking it to the next level when one of the staff members clears their throat.

She curtsies when they part. “Your car is ready, Lord Nicholas.”

Nicholas is still dazed and nods dumbly, much to Vince’s amusement. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers, earning a playful shove from Nicholas as they head down to the driveway.

The ride over to the palace is quiet and it’s obvious to everyone around them that Nicholas wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. “I need a drink,” he states hoarsely as the car pulls through the palace gates.

Vince nods. “So we’ll get you one.”

“Do you think they would notice if I made off with an entire bottle?” Nicholas asks in a serious tone. Vince does not answer him, knowing that Nicholas isn’t serious. He has a code of decorum that he has to maintain and he’d be damned if the Dowager Queen sees him break it.

From what he has heard about the infamous Dowager Queen Clarisse Renaldi, Vince gets the feeling she is somewhat two-faced and spiteful. She has made it clear for her disdain for Nicholas’ uncle in the past, which everyone suspects are one of the reasons that Mia broke off their relationship.

The car comes to a stop and the door is opened. “Lord Nicholas,” greets a footman dressed in a formal uniform.

With a dramatic roll of Nicholas’ eyes, they get out of the car and wind their way through the crowd, over the sounds of surprised murmurs and people greeting Nicholas.

“It’s too bad that there isn’t a pizza place nearby,” Vince says into Nicholas’ ear, earning a snort of laughter as they come to the entrance of the gardens.

A blonde woman with glasses and her hair piled on top of her head gawks at them—mostly Nicholas—before turning to a man standing next to her. “That’s Charlotte Kutaway,” Nicholas tells Vince. “The Queen’s Mistress of the Robes. She was the Dowager Queen’s before that.”

Vince nods. “She looks surprised to see you,” he comments over the sound of the man announcing the guests.

“Perhaps she and the Dowager Queen were hoping I wouldn’t show,” Nicholas suggests. They near the front of the line of people, listening as a person of nobility is announced.

It’s a tedious process and by the time they reach the front, Vince realizes the strict protocols that his boyfriend had to endure on a near-daily basis and how different Nicholas' life has become since leaving Genovia.

“Lord Nicholas Alexandre George Francis Devereaux, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn,” the man bellows.

Nicholas flashes him a devious grin, knowing that using his English title would irk the Dowager Queen, before descending the stairs to greet Queen Amelia and her husband. Whatever tension Nicholas had teetering through his body is now gone as he politely gives the Queen a kiss on the cheek before greeting her husband with a friendly smile and firm handshake. 

Or he’s just going through the motions.

“Mister Vincent Michael Stevens,” the man announces.

It’s not as impressive or elegant as his boyfriend who precedes him, but Vince doesn’t care for fancy titles. He makes his way down to the royal couple as Nicholas is still speaking to the Queen, who Vince has to admit is quite lovely. She reminds him of Audrey Hepburn with her doe eyes and delicate features.

Her husband is classically handsome with ginger-colored hair and blue eyes. He and the Queen make a handsome couple, though they seem to pale in comparison to Nicholas, who flashes Vince a smile.

“May I present Vince Stevens,” Nicholas says to the couple as he clasps Vince’s shoulder.

The Queen smiles at him and extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she tells him. Vince is surprised to hear an American accent.

“The pleasure is mine, your majesty,” Vince replies. He turns to Prince Philippe-Louis. “Your Highness, happy birthday to you.”

Philippe-Louis smiles as they shake hands. “Don’t remind me,” he quips. “I was just telling Lord Nicholas that if I had it my way, I would have a small gathering and drink my sorrows away with the good bourbon.”

The Queen rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the comment. “Are you one of Nicholas’ business partners?” she asks Vince.

“Actually, we met in New York,” Vince answers.

“I didn’t know you were in New York, Nicholas,” Amelia says. “Philippe and I were there about a year and a half ago. It was a year and a half ago, right?”

Philippe-Louis thinks about it for a moment, before nodding. “I believe so.”

Nicholas looks uncomfortable, casting a glance at Vince. They had fallen in love around then and Vince was preparing to leave his wife, then the incident at the loft happened and Nicholas fled New York in its wake. “You must have just missed me,” he states, forcing a smile.

“It’s a shame,” Amelia sighs. “Your presence has been greatly missed in Genovia.”

They fall into an uncomfortable silence. Whatever thoughts are running through Nicholas’ head are hidden behind a mask of false cheer and decorum.

Vince wonders what it must have been like to be immersed in this life on a daily basis and if Nicholas had been silently relieved when the Queen ended their relationship. 

Nicholas bows quickly and smiles again. “Your Majesties,” he says before departing, Vince trailing behind him. A server walks by with a tray of champagne flutes, which Nicholas plucks from her. He hands one to Vince and keeps another for himself. “I hate this,” he mutters.

“We can stay for an hour and leave,” Vince offers as he watches Nicholas down the flute of champagne. “If you keep that up, I’ll need to carry you out.”

Nicholas’ brows quirk. “How noble of you,” he replies with a grin. 

They end up in the rose garden with the other guests, who either come up to Nicholas and engage in small talk or watch him as he circulates through the party with Vince by his side. 

At some point, a young woman asks Nicholas for a dance and Vince is left to his own devices until the young Queen approaches him.

“Mr. Stevens,” says Amelia. “Could I bother you for a dance?”

Vince shakes his head and holds out his hand. “After you,” he replies with a smile as they make their way to the dance floor.

It’s a simple waltz and Vince admits quietly that the Queen is a good dancer. Her movements are graceful and fluid, despite the crowded dance floor. 

“May I be candid, Mr. Stevens?” the Queen asks as they dance.

Vince is slightly gobsmacked but recovers quickly. “If you’re going to be candid, Your Highness, please call me Vince.”

“Vince,” she repeats. “Then call me Mia. Everyone else does, except for Grandma.” She catches the confused look that flicks across Vince’s face. “The Dowager Queen.”

“I see.”

“I’m surprised that you haven’t seen her yet,” Mia continues. “She was in the rose garden with Count Vitello, perhaps you missed her.”

Vince shrugs. “Nicholas was introducing me to the Grand Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg,” he supplies as a reason for missing her. He suspects that if Nicholas did see the Dowager Queen, he made sure to steer clear of her path.

“How is Nicholas?” Mia asks suddenly.

“Um…”

“I just…I worry about him,” she babbles as they continue to dance. “We didn’t really talk after I ended things and he just vanished for a while. I mean, I don’t expect him to keep in contact with me—that would be weird—but it wasn’t like him. To go off like that. And then he’s back in London, at his uncle’s.”

Mia pauses and looks up at Vince with those big brown eyes, chewing on her lower lip out of habit. “I just worry about him.”

Vince is speechless. He doesn’t expect a queen to go on a tangent, but to be composed and have a facade of a tough exterior.

Mia is not much younger than Nicholas, which is still incredibly young.

“You’re his friend,” she says. “Is he doing okay?”

Vince wants to correct her and tell her that he’s not Nicholas’ friend, but his _boyfriend_. “He’s fine,” he replies with the same false smile that Nicholas has had plastered on his face since their arrival.

 

* * *

 

Nicholas finds him speaking with Prince Philippe-Louis and a cluster of other gentlemen.

“Mind if I steal him?” he asks with a charming smile and his hand cupping Vince’s elbow. The prince gives him a nod and they are off. “I want to show you something,” he tells Vince as they make their way back into the palace and hurry down a corridor.

“Is this going to cause an international incident?” Vince asks.

Nicholas flashes him a smile. “Only if we get caught,” he answers cheekily as he kisses Vince hard. He can taste the alcohol on Nicholas’ lips and tongue as their mouths come together.

Vince always enjoys it when Nicholas is on the tipsy side of drunk; he gets incredibly handsy and his inhibitions are lowered into the gutter. He is pliable, says things into Vince’s ear that he was positive wasn’t in Nicholas’ vocabulary, and Vince loves it. 

The younger man cups his hardening cock through his trousers, kneading it slowly before pulling off him. “Come on,” he whispers heatedly.

They end up a stateroom from the brief look that Vince gets before Nicholas pushes him up against the door. He is mouthing Vince’s neck hungrily, careful not to dislodge his clothing or leave marks, and unbuckling the belt around his waist. 

“Nick,” Vince breathes as Nicholas sinks down to his knees. “What are you doing?”

Nicholas glances up at him through his dark lashes. “I’m going to blow you,” he announces.

“I can see that,” he grouses over the sound of Nicholas pulling down his zipper. He grunts when those beloved hands make contact with his dick and eases it out of the confines of clothing. “We could get in _a lot_ of trouble.”

Nicholas licks a stripe from root to tip, grinning as he does so. “Tell me, Mr. Stevens, how goes it feel to have the heir apparent of Genovia on his knees?” he asks conversationally while stroking Vince’s cock in his hand.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Vince curses, closing his eyes. He threads his fingers through Nicholas’ hair and pulls slightly. “It feels good.”

He can hear Nicholas chuckling, his warm breath tickling his erection. “Just good?” he inquires. Then he swirls his tongue around the gland.

Vince groans. “It feels amazing,” he tells Nicholas, who takes him into his mouth. He knows that his boyfriend wants him to supply the commentary. “I love fucking that smug look off your face,” Vince grunts over the sensation of Nicholas’ mouth.

He glances down and is treated to the vision of Nicholas— _their_  Lord Nicholas Alexandre George Louis Devereaux—wrapping his pretty lips around Vince’s cock. “What would parliament say about their little Lord Devereaux sucking off his boyfriend?” 

Nicholas wantonly moans around his dick, the sensation going straight to Vince’s gut. 

“I bet they have no idea how much you love doing it,” Vince continues, his voice becoming rough as Nicholas’ tongue slides over his shaft. “And how _fucking fantastic_ you are at giving head.”

There is a mischievous glint in Nicholas’ eyes because—yes—he knows that his mouth has the ability render Vince incapable of doing anything, but moan and writhe as he falls apart. Nicholas ends up swallowing him down, pressing the best nub of his nose into Vince’s pubic hair.

Vince moans as throat muscles constrict around his length. “God Nick, when I get you home…” he grunts. “I’m going to take that sash and use it to tie you to the headboard, then I’m going to fuck you so hard that the entire house hears your screams. They’ll know you’re _mine_.”

If Nicholas could smile with Vince’s cock in his mouth, he probably would. His pupils expand, nearly swallowing his blue irises until they are thin lines. 

The slick feeling of Nicholas’ mouth along with the overwhelming suction being applied to his dick doesn’t allow him to last much longer. Vince shatters into pieces, shooting his load down the young Lord’s throat as he presses his lips together to keep from crying out. 

“You planned that,” Vince finally says, watching Nicholas rise to his feet.

Nicholas’ tongue flicks out, swiping away a speck of semen of his lower lip, and shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You're a terrible liar,” Vince growls as he pulls Nicholas by the lapel into a crushing kiss. He can taste himself inside Nicholas’ mouth, knowing that he’s claimed every inch of the man.

Genovia can believe that Nicholas is theirs and theirs alone, but it’s really Vince who has him—mind, body, and soul.

Nicholas nuzzles his neck, his fingers working to get Vince back into his trousers. “Can we leave now?” he asks.

Vince tips Nicholas’ chin upward to kiss him once more; gentler this time. “Yeah baby,” he whispers, tenderly stroking his boyfriend’s jaw. “We can leave now.” 

When they arrive back at Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte, Vince takes Nicholas back to their bedroom and does tie him to the headboard between sweet kisses that dot his bare chest. Then he makes love to him.

Because there are other ways to make Nicholas scream.

 

* * *

 

Vince is at work when Nicholas calls his work line to tell him that he has to go to the Genovian Embassy in London.

“Why?” Vince asks as he closes the door to his office.

“The Dowager Queen wants to have tea,” Nicholas answers sourly. “She is sorry that she and her husband missed me at Philippe-Louis’ birthday. They happened to be in London this week.”

It seems fair enough, though Vince knows that Nicholas would rather decline the invitation. “When is it?”

“In a half hour,” Nicholas says. “I’m on my way there. May as well show up early and hope she can accommodate my schedule for a change.”

“Are you working late tonight?”

Nicholas chuckles over the sound of Louis honking the horn of the Bentley. “No. I’m making my boyfriend dinner tonight.”

“He’s a lucky fellow,” Vince teases.

Nicholas hums. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, he is. I’m going shopping before heading to your flat. Do you want red or white wine?”

They speak for a while longer before each of them has to go—Vince to a meeting and Nicholas to tea with the Dowager Queen. The rest of Vince’s day goes on as it normally does and by the time he leaves the office, he is picturing Nicholas in his kitchen and cooking their dinner with a smile on his face. 

He comes down the lift with one of his co-workers, chatting about their plans for the evening, when he sees Edward talking on his cell phone in the lobby. Vince politely excuses himself and bids the co-worker good night, then makes his way over to the Viscount.

“Yes,” Edward says, sounding incredibly and unusually flustered. “Thank you, your Majesty.” He hangs up upon Vince’s approach. “The Dowager Queen is detaining Nicholas at the Genovian Embassy.”

Vince freezes. “What?” he gasps. “Can they do that?”

“Come with me,” Edward tells him, leading him towards the Bentley that is parked at the curb. Once they are inside, the viscount continues. “I didn’t have much time to speak with him, but Nicholas said that the Dowager Queen is trying to coerce him into abdicating.”

“What!” Vince exclaims. “Why?”

Edward frowns out the window. “Apparently the Dowager Queen’s husband saw an exchange between you both,” he replies. “A kiss in a stateroom.”

Vince’s stomach clenches uncomfortably. It could have been worse - this husband could have seen Nicholas on his knees... “A kiss?” he whispers.  

“And the servants at Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte reported back to the palace that you two were engaging in sexual relations during your stay,” Edward adds with a sigh. He turns to Vince. “Clarisse is a demon and will stop at nothing to make Nicholas miserable. His arrival overshadowed the Prince Consort’s birthday fête and it’s no secret that the Devereaux family is well loved, perhaps more than the Renaldis.”

Vince swallows down the bile rising in his throat. “Why does she care about who Nicholas is involved with?” he asks. “Her granddaughter is on the throne and he’s here…with _me_.”

“Until the Queen is pregnant and gives birth, Nicholas is the heir presumptive to the Genovian throne,” the Viscount explains. “I know that he has always been just Nicholas to you, but he descends from two great houses - the House of Devereaux and the House of Windsor. Clarisse has always felt that he should serve the Genovian throne above all else.”

It doesn’t take long for Vince to realize what Edward is telling him. “She wants him to end our relationship or abdicate,” he gasps. “Oh _god_ …”

“I know my nephew,” Edward says firmly. “He will not risk losing _you_ to appease the Renaldis. Vincent, Nicholas _loves_ you. Not Genovia. Not anymore.”

They arrive at the Genovian Embassy and are admitted because Nicholas has demanded it. As they enter the foyer, Vince can hear Nicholas’ voice echoing through the halls. 

“If you think for an instant that I would keep him as some sort of royal mistress, you have clearly lost your damned mind!” he shouts.

There is an unfamiliar, accented voice of a man. “Watch your tone, young man,” he says tersely.

“Know your _place_ , Joseph,” Nicholas retorts vehemently. “You may be the Dowager Queen’s husband, but you are still a commoner and I _am_ second in line to the throne.”

The fury in Nicholas’ tone makes Vince’s blood run cold. He’s never heard his boyfriend when he’s in a rage.

Angry - yes, but nothing like _this_.

He rushes ahead of Edward, listening to the sounds of arguing to guide his way.

“Nicholas,” sighs a woman, who Vince surmises is the Dowager Queen. “This man is only using you. Can’t you see that? All he sees is a lost and lonely individual that he can easily manipulate…”

“You haven’t even met him!” Nicholas exclaims.

Vince sees Nicholas angrily pacing the room, his cheeks turning pink and his arms shaking. He steps into the doorway and waits for his boyfriend to acknowledge him. Nicholas does see him and his tense expression collapses into one of relief.

“Vince,” he breathes as he rushes over to him and practically falls into his arms, seeking comfort and support. “Thank god.” He forgets decorum and kisses Vince, sighing into it with relief. 

“This must be _him_ ,” the woman comments when they part.

Vince sees that she is an attractive woman in her late seventies with short light brown hair and gray eyes. Her cast is nothing like her granddaughter's, who is personable and sweet while this woman looks like ice wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Edward.”

The Viscount is behind them. “Your Highness,” he replies with none of the warmth that Vince has grown accustomed to. “Joseph.”

“Viscount Mabrey,” answers a man, who must be the Dowager Queen’s husband. He is unremarkable in looks, but what he lacks in physical aesthetics is made up by his commanding presence.

The Dowager Queen rises and keeps her eyes on Vince, scrutinizing every detail of his person. “So you are the reason why we’re all here,” she tells him, unimpressed.

“I believe that was _your_ doing,” Nicholas snaps as he lifts his head off of Vince’s shoulder. He keeps an arm around Vince’s waist.

Clarisse ignores the comment. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Stevens?” she asks pointedly.

“I love him,” Vince says immediately. “I would love him if he was penniless.”

“But you must enjoy the luxuries that his status affords the both of you, do you not?”

Vince’s nostrils flare at the question. “You mean the cooking lessons he was given as a teenager? Yes, I enjoy that as well as his appreciation of the arts and love for literature. I admire his intelligence and that Nicholas is well-rounded,” he counters, rubbing Nicholas’ back. “Are those the luxuries you meant?”

Vince knows he's goading her with that last statement, but finds that he doesn't care. 

“I am not ignorant, Mr. Stevens,” she states. She gestures to Nicholas. “Nicholas affords you the type of lifestyle that would keep you quite comfortable.”

“Yet I work and make my own money,” Vince replies with a tense grin. “Your Highness.”

Clarisse’s well-schooled regal expression falters for just a moment. She stares at the two of them, trying to decide who is she more angry at. “Edward,” she says as she keeps her gaze on Vince and Nicholas before turning to the Viscount. “Don’t you have _anything_ to say about this? Surely, you cannot condone this behavior.”

“I find that Mr. Stevens is a good, hardworking man and calming influence on Nicholas,” Edward explains. “Most importantly, he makes my nephew happy. So yes, Clarisse, I wholeheartedly condone this _relationship_.”

“You’ll allow your nephew anything in order to get back under his good graces,” Joseph states quietly.

Nicholas steps forward, raising a finger at the Dowager Queen’s husband as Vince keeps him at bay. “You will keep quiet,” he says sharply.

“Nicholas, that is enough,” Clarisse tells him, clearly exasperated.

He looks at her, gobsmacked. “Enough?” he asks. “Now you tell me it’s enough? After _everything_ , I have done for you and your family? To appease your demands and wishes? I gave up all I ever knew to make you and your family believe that my intentions towards Mia were honest. I toured Genovia, I attended balls and parliament, I declined my acceptance into Oxford because _you_ felt that it would be undignified for a member of the Genovian nobility to participate in graduate studies.”

“You are _over exaggerating_ , Nicholas,” Clarisse replies. “I asked what was expected of you—nothing more, nothing less.”

Nicholas shakes his head, letting go of Vince as he takes a step forward. “I was miserable and none of it mattered to any of you. And when I came to you to ask for your permission to marry Mia, you told me I could if I renounced all ties to my uncle,” he says, his voice shaking. “I had already given you everything, but you had to ask me to do _that_.” 

It’s clear by the grief-stricken look on Edward’s face that this is new information. Vince looks back to Nicholas and Clarisse, the latter flushing in embarrassment. 

“He is the only family I have and you demanded that I…” Nicholas chokes on his words and is unable to finish the rest.

“We could have been your family,” Clarisse replies softly.

Nicholas shakes his head. “He is the _only_ family I remember,” he rasps. “He raised me from the time I was a boy. He looked after me, he taught me right from wrong, he was _always_ there for me and you ignored me until Mia took an interest in me.”

“He also used you as a pawn to usurp the throne.”

“I believe your great-great-great grandfather did that to Queen Adélaide of Genovia,” Nicholas responds. “She was a Devereaux, if you do not remember.” This seems to momentarily pacify Clarisse, who says nothing. She turns to her husband for some sort of aid, but he is still as a statue. 

“How could you have asked that of me and believe that I would publicly decry my uncle?” asks Nicholas pointedly. “You never liked me, your Highness, and even if I agreed to it, you still would have cast me out. Did you ever worry what would become of me? If my uncle would receive me or if I would end up alone? Did that ever cross your mind?” 

The room becomes uncomfortably quiet as Nicholas awaits his answer. Vince can see that his eyes are bright with tears and his boyfriend is barely holding on to the tentative control of his emotions.

He wants to hold him in his arms and tell him that everything is going to be fine; that he’s not alone and these people have no say in how he conducts his life.

“No,” Clarisse finally replies. “I did not think of it, but it seems that everything turned out for the best. You have your uncle and his good graces and Genovia has a prince consort who takes his duties seriously.”

Nicholas laughs harshly. “I _have_ Vince as well.”

“This is a phase, Nicholas,” Clarisse snaps. “If you wanted to get under my skin, you have succeeded. Now put an end to this or abdicate your rights to succession.”

Nicholas shrugs. “I chose to abdicate.” Vince feels the air rush out of his lungs and his head spinning from shock. He can barely start to fathom what Nicholas has just said, what he is risking—all for _him_.

“You cannot be serious,” Clarisse gasps, taking the words out of Vince’s mouth.

“I am.”

Clarisse glances at Edward. “Talk some sense into him, Edward! He’s about to throw away what he was born and bred to be…all for a passing fancy!”

“Nicholas,” Edward says, his voice gentle and sincere. “Is this what you truly want?”

He keeps his eyes on Nicholas, who nods.

Edward smiles at him. “Your Highness, I support my nephew’s decision,” the Viscount tells the Dowager Queen.

“You will allow your nephew to ruin his family’s legacy for this man?” Clarisse asks, her voice raising a few octaves as she rudely gestures at Vince. “What on earth would your parents think of this, Nicholas!”

“They would want me to be happy,” Nicholas replies sharply.

“If you do this,” Clarisse threatens, “you will be forfeiting all rights to Genovian property. That includes your parent’s estate. Everything inside will become the property of the crown—everything you’ve ever known; it will no longer be yours. Is that what you want, Nicholas?”

Nicholas stands his ground against the threat, though Vince can see sadness flickering in his eyes. “If you want a house filled with ghosts, then it’s yours.”

Someone clears their throat from the doorway, breaking the loaded silence. Vince looks to see an attendant looking nervous as he interrupts them. “Your Highness,” he says. “The Queen’s guard is here.”

“Why on earth would Amelia send her guard?” Clarisse inquires impatiently.

The attendant twitches. “Not _that_ Queen, your Highness,” he replies as a man wearing a suit with the House of Windsor coat of arms embroidered into the lapel joins him.

“Your Highness, I have come here on behalf of Queen Elizabeth to fetch her cousin,” he states. “It has come to the palace’s attention that he is being detained against his will.”

Clarisse looks absolutely furious. “What business I conduct with Lord Devereaux is not the concern of the Queen of England.”

“As a member of the House of Windsor and the Duke of Connaught and Strathearn, it is indeed the concern of her Majesty,” the guard counters. “Has the Duke broken any laws or committed treason against the country of Genovia or its crown?”

“He has not,” Clarisse replies.

The guard steps forward, holding out an envelope which he gives to the Dowager Queen. “Then I have come to collect the Duke, as well as Viscount Mabrey and Mister Stevens,” he says as Clarisse tears the envelope open and reads its contents. “I believe we have come to an understanding, your Highness.”

“It seems we have,” she replies tightly. She gestures at them. “You are free to leave.”

Vince files out of the room behind Nicholas, whose footsteps are heavy and slow. He takes Nicholas by the arm and without a word leads him out of the embassy, holding him upright as he stumbles onto the front steps.

“Nicholas?” his uncle asks.

Nicholas turns to him, his face ashen, and blinks owlishly. “I feel unwell,” he says slowly. “Take me home.”

 

* * *

 

Vince is sitting across his boss’ desk, having explained to him that he needs a month off to deal with a personal matter.

“I will be bringing my laptop so I can connect remotely and keep in touch with clients while I am away,” he says. “Anything urgent can be taken care of by my team.”

“That is more than enough,” his boss tells him. “Let me know if more time is needed.”

Vince nods as he shakes his boss’ hand and rises out of his seat. “Thank you,” he replies before being dismissed to grab his things and meet Louis downstairs.

Nicholas and his uncle are already at the estate near Balmoral, having been there since the weekend. Vince had been there with them until last night, when he had to return to the city before the story broke in the press. He’s unsure if his name will be mentioned, but in truth, he is far more concerned about Nicholas’ well-being than his own.

Vince hated leaving his boyfriend’s side as he slept, thanks to the sedatives prescribed by Dr. Patel, but he knew he would back the following afternoon. Vince rushes down to the car with his belongings and finds Louis leaning against the Bentley. “Sorry,” he apologizes as Louis opens the door.

“It is not a problem, Mr. Stevens,” the driver tells him before shutting the door and going round to the driver’s side. “The good thing about using the Queen’s private jet is that it waits for you.”

Vince snorts back laughter. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“A pleasure,” Louis says before starting up the car and driving off into London traffic. As he pulls onto the motorway, the driver speaks up. “The Viscount informed me that the Dowager Queen had the Genovian Parliament draft the Declaration of Abdication Act.”

Vince palms his face. “Does Nicholas know?”

“He was still in bed last I heard,” Louis replies.

The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with silence. Vince boards the private jet and flies two hours north to Scotland, then is driven to the Viscount’s estate, Hameldon House.

When he arrives Nicholas is standing on the front steps of the main house, waiting for him. “You’re late,” Nicholas declares as Vince gets out of the car. There is a smile on his face as he comes down the steps to greet him.

Vince shrugs. “I was told that private jets wait for the passengers,” he replies as Nicholas wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him. They linger on the steps for a while, allowing Vince to breathe Nicholas in.

“I think you missed me,” Nicholas quips into his shoulder.

Vince holds him closer. “Only a little,” he whispers.

 

* * *

 

Queen Amelia comes to Hameldon a week later with her husband, the Head of the Genovian Parliament, and her Mistress of the Robes in tow.

The Declaration of Abdication Act is laid out on the desk in the study, waiting for Nicholas’ signature. It is a somber atmosphere and the young Queen looks displeased with the events that are transpiring in front of her very eyes. 

Vince watches as his boyfriend does not hesitate to sign the document. There is a look of utter relief on Nicholas’ face as he writes his name and stamps his wax covered seal next to it.

“Are you sure about this?” Mia asks.

Nicholas looks up at her and nods. “I am, your Majesty.” He gives her the pen with a smile and steps aside for her to sign the document as well. The Head of the Genovian Parliament is next, followed by Edward who acts as a witness on Nicholas’ behalf.

“It is done,” the gentleman says as he rolls up the document. “You will retain your title as Lord Devereaux as well as the Devereaux family estate, Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte.”

Nicholas shakes his head. “I will not be needing it,” he tells them. “As I have no plans to return to Genovia, it would be wasteful to retain the property. Let it go to the crown.”

“May I have a moment with Lord Devereaux and Mr. Stevens?” Mia asks before anyone can say a word. She may have a gentle smile on her face, but her tone says otherwise. “Alone.”

“Of course Your Majesty,” the Head of Parliament says.

The group is ushered out of the room, leaving Vince in the presence of royalty. He remains in his seat, looking at Nicholas who is just as perplexed as he is. “I wish you would reconsider,” Mia says.

“About abdicating or Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte?” Nicholas asks.

Mia crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. “About not returning to Genovia, Nicholas,” she retorts, clearly not amused by his blasé demeanor. “Genovia is your home.”

“It hasn’t been home in a long time, Mia,” he says evenly. “For twenty-eight years to be exact.”

The Queen’s arms drop to her sides. “Nicholas,” she sighs.

“Mia, I am not going to reconsider. And your grandmother made it very clear that I was not to have the estate.”

“Well, my grandmother is no longer the Queen of Genovia and has not been for over a decade,” Mia tells him. “I know that you must think she is using me as her puppet, but I am my own person. I had no idea that she was going to put you in such an uncomfortable position.” She looks at Vince. “The two of you in such an uncomfortable position. I am truly sorry.”

Nicholas nods. “I know that you would not have permitted her actions had you known,” he whispers.

“If you will not be returning to Genovia and are dead set on having Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte returned to the crown, at the very least allow me to oversee the belongings packed up and shipped into storage until you decide what do with them,” Mia offers.

Vince and Nicholas are stunned by the offer. “It is too much, Mia,” Nicholas counters. “Everything in that house belongs to the crown now.”

“It _belongs_ to your family, Nicholas,” Mia says gently. She goes to him and takes his hands in hers, squeezing them. “Please let me do this for you.”

Vince watches as Nicholas silently agrees to the request with a nod of his head. In a matter of twenty minutes, he has witnessed someone give up their entire life to be with _him_ , of all people. 

Later that night Vince makes love to Nicholas and tells him over and over again how much he loves him until his voice becomes raspy and he can no longer speak.

 

* * *

 

“So where is Spalding House?” Vince asks over breakfast in his flat.

They have been back in London for several months and yesterday, Nicholas had tea with Queen Elizabeth. He came back to the flat looking quite gobsmacked as he explained that she was bestowing an estate on him.

Nicholas is pouring himself a cup of coffee and yawning. His hair is sticking up all over the place and his eyes are still puffy. “Near Hameldon,” he grumbles. “About thirty minutes north, I believe.”

“And she just gave it to you?” Vince inquires dubiously. He watches Nicholas shrug as he sips his coffee and smiles at his sleepy boyfriend. “I guess the royal family takes care of its own.”

Nicholas makes a sound of agreement. “No house talk until after I’m awake,” he says.

Vince brings over a plate of eggs and toast and sets it down in front of Nicholas. He leans over the counter and gives him a kiss on the forehead. “Anything you want,” he tells him.

Two weeks later, everything from Petit Vaux-le-Vicomte is brought to Spalding House and is arranged accordingly long before he and Nicholas arrive. The estate is absolutely stunning and neither one of them can believe that Her Majesty gifted it to him.

“She must really like you,” Vince says as they get out of the car and stares up at the house. He playfully nudges Nicholas, who pokes him in the ribs and takes him by the hand.

Together they mount the front steps and enter the house as they are greeted by the staff. The head of the household staff, Beatrice, shows them around the house with pride and gusto. She seems to delight in the young couple, doting on them as she leads them from one wing to another.

“Her Majesty said that if we eventually marry, you will be added to the deed,” Nicholas comments as he looks out onto the avenue. “You’ll probably become the Honorable Vincent Stevens of Connaught and Strathearn. Try putting that on one of your fancy business cards.”

Vince comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Nicholas’ waist. “What do you mean by if?” he says into his boyfriend’s ear.

“ _When_ ,” Nicholas corrects with a laugh.

Vince nuzzles his cheek against Nicholas’ neck. “Much better,” he tells him as he reaches into his pocket.

“I’m glad you think so,” his boyfriend replies. “What do you think of the place?”

He shrugs. “I like the gardens,” he says. “It would be a good for a springtime wedding. Something small and intimate.”

“A wedding?” Nicholas balks as he turns around in Vince’s arms, his face wroth in confusion. “Who’s getting married?”

Vince grins as he holds up a platinum band and watches Nicholas’ jaw fall open. “We are,” he declares. “If you say yes.”

“Yes,” Nicholas says almost immediately. “But the Queen needs to…”

Vince shakes his head as he slips the band onto Nicholas’ finger. “Your uncle already spoke with her and received her blessing,” he tells him, cupping Nicholas’ cheek and seeing that familiar smile on his lips once he’s gotten over the initial shock. “There’s that smile I love.”

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” Nicholas whispers, awestruck.

Vince kisses him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispers back. “I’m yours. Always.”


End file.
